


On a Dock on Ember Island

by Odae



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Sokka gets to talk about his feelings, Sokka has trauma too, more friendship than romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odae/pseuds/Odae
Summary: Sokka groaned and threw back his head in exasperation. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “Now would you quit bugging me?”Zuko faced the ocean. “The past couple of days have been rough,” he said. “I thought you might want to talk.”He peered over to see Sokka turned toward him, a curious expression on his face.“She was your mom, too,” Zuko said quietly.Sokka talks about his mother. Zuko listens.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 49
Kudos: 475





	On a Dock on Ember Island

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to address Sokka's grief and trauma from The Southern Raiders. He's often regarded as a comic relief character, and as someone on whom others can rely. This is me attempting to give him his due.
> 
> EDIT: There is now [art for this fic](https://kdmcolorfulmagic.tumblr.com/post/634725486127366144/made-for-koala-otter-s-incredible-fic-on-a-dock)!! Thank you so so much to Col, who is both an incredible writer and artist whose work you should definitely check out on both [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfulmagic/pseuds/colorfulmagic) and [tumblr](https://kdmcolorfulmagic.tumblr.com/)!

The sun was finally setting over Ember Island and its inhabitants, the fading orange streaks in the sky and the low light heralding a few hours’ respite from the day’s heat. Zuko should have felt some sort of relief, especially after the day he’d had, warily watching Katara and bringing her to the island, gathering everyone else from their old camp, settling into the Fire Lord’s house. At this point, his body should have relaxed under the cooling air and the promise of a featherbed to sleep in that night. But a thread of unease was still wrapping its way around his spine and tugging at the back of his skull, sharp and persistent. Something was off, absent, a little wrong. It wasn’t until dinner, once night had fallen and he noticed a fifteen-year-old-boy-sized hole between Toph and Suki, that it struck him. 

“Where’s Sokka?” 

Katara’s sleepy eyes shot wide open. “Oh, no,” she said urgently. 

“He’s at the dock,” said Toph, tilting her face toward Zuko. 

“It sounded like he wanted to be alone,” Suki added.

Katara started to rise from her seat. “I’ll go get him,” she said, but Aang stopped her with his hand, exchanging a look with Zuko.

“Katara, you just got back,” Aang said cautiously.

“I’m his sister,” she said, pulling her arm out of his reach. 

“I know,” he said earnestly, and she softened. “It’s just, right now, maybe someone else should—”

“I’ll go,” Zuko said, already standing. He nodded once at Aang, and then looked to Katara. She hesitated, and then nodded, too, sitting back down next to Aang. 

Zuko found Sokka at the dock, just like Toph had said. It was a good thing she had told him, because he could hardly make out Sokka’s form in the darkness. He was a soft smudge perched at the end of the sharp shadows of the dock, above the moonlight-flecked water. Zuko could have easily overlooked him.

The ocean was restless tonight, and loud, as the waves crashed onto the sand and surged up below them. There was no chance of Sokka hearing Zuko approaching. The moon was on its second day of waning, a bright gibbous amidst a smattering of stars, like raindrops in a spider’s web. The loose shape of Sokka’s head was tilted up toward it. Zuko decided to announce himself. 

“Hey,” he called.

It apparently was not enough. 

Sokka startled and twisted around, nearly toppling into the water. Zuko rushed over and tried to help, grabbing Sokka’s bicep and hauling him further onto the dock as he righted himself. 

“It’s just me,” he said, taking into account the dark, “Zuko.”

“Yeah, I think I figured that out by now,” Sokka said drily. He shook Zuko’s hand off and looked down at the water. 

Zuko thought he saw the shine of tears on Sokka’s face before he turned away, but he couldn’t be sure. He stood quietly and waited. Somehow the ocean was even louder on this end of the dock. 

“What, you just came out here to stand there?” Sokka asked impatiently. 

Zuko shifted his weight to his other foot. “No,” he said. His voice sounded too hard. He tried to soften it. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

A tight laugh rose out of Sokka. “Sure, go ahead! It’s not like I came out here to be alone,” he said. He gestured toward the empty space on the dock next to him. 

Zuko sat down gingerly, crossing his legs in front of him. Sokka’s legs dangled over the edge of the dock, his toes pointing toward the water. Zuko waited again, but Sokka said nothing. The water churned below and before them, the sharp crests of waves gleaming white like curved blades under the light of the moon.

“Are you okay?” Zuko finally asked.

Sokka turned to look up at him, his brow raised. He forged a crooked grin from his mouth. “Where did _that_ come from?” he asked wryly.

Zuko looked back at him. “You weren’t at dinner,” he said. 

“Maybe I wasn’t hungry,” Sokka countered, shrugging exaggeratedly. 

“You?” Zuko asked disbelievingly.

“Hey, it happens,” Sokka said. “It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong.”

“You’re sure?”

Sokka groaned and threw back his head in exasperation. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “Now would you quit bugging me?”

Zuko faced the ocean. “The past couple of days have been rough,” he said. “I thought you might want to talk.”

He peered over to see Sokka turned toward him, a curious expression on his face.

“She was your mom, too,” Zuko said quietly.

Sokka crumpled silently, all the bluster struck out of him. His shoulders rounded as he leaned forward, his elbows landing on the tops of his thighs. 

“I’m sorry about what Katara said,” Zuko continued. “Before, when—”

“I know,” Sokka interrupted him. His words were empty of any malice, empty of everything, really. They sounded more like an echo. “It’s okay. She didn’t mean it.”

Zuko was confused. “She shouldn’t have said it, anyway.”

Sokka considered this, his face tilting in the direction of the moon. “No, she shouldn’t have,” he said. “But, you know, that’s kind of what Katara does.”

“You can just forgive her like that?”

Sokka gave Zuko a small, helpless smile. “Well, yeah,” he said. “She’s my sister.”

Zuko couldn’t add much in the way of sisters, so he watched Sokka until he turned back away. His legs swung a little bit below them, nearly skimming the water. 

“It’s hard to explain how much changed after our mom died,” Sokka said after a while, “because everything did. I’d never seen my dad like that. I haven’t seen him like that since. But sometimes, I just think about how hard it must have been for Katara. She did everything to step up and take care of our family. She went through so much.”

Zuko nodded. Every day, Katara still made meals for their friends, healed their wounds, asked them if they wanted to talk. But it wasn’t much different from the way Sokka made his meticulous plans, made jokes when the odds seemed against them, made sure every time they made camp that they were somewhere safe. 

“And you?” Zuko asked.

“I—” Sokka’s mouth closed abruptly, and he leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees. His voice was low when he spoke. “I missed my mom.” One of his hands rose to wipe at his eyes. “I still miss my mom.”

Zuko vaguely thought he might mention something about his own mother, something like what he said to Katara: “We have that in common.” But whatever force had prompted him to go looking for Sokka in the first place made his tongue heavy. It told him just to listen. For a long time there was just the sound of the waves.

“What was he like?” Sokka asked, his voice hoarse.

“Who?”

Sokka cleared his throat. “The guy you found.” He sniffed. “The man who killed my mom.”

Zuko faltered. “You really want to know?”

“I...I don’t know,” Sokka said tentatively. His shoulders shifted as he turned to look at Zuko. The edges of his face glowed under the moonlight, and the barest tracks of tears graced his cheeks. “I guess not, actually.”

Carefully, Zuko reached toward him. Sokka’s hand startled in his, but then relaxed, allowing Zuko to take hold of it gently. 

“What was she like?” Zuko asked. “Your mom.”

“It was such a long time ago,” Sokka said slowly. He bowed his head. “I’ve only told one other person this, but—” Sokka’s voice went quiet, as if he were ashamed—“most of the time, I can’t even remember what she looked like.”

“You were young,” Zuko reasoned.

Sokka nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he agreed, also slowly, “but still.”

Zuko took his hand back into his own lap and watched the ripples from where the toe of Sokka’s boot had brushed the water’s surface. They seeded out slowly, one after the other, and then were caught up in the surrounding waves. 

“Katara says you look like her.” 

Sokka looked up sharply. 

“Like your mom,” Zuko clarified. 

Sokka exhaled, and it sounded something like a laugh. "My dad used to say that. I haven't heard it since I was little, though."

In the stillness afterward, Zuko thought their conversation might be over. The fact that Sokka had already said so much seemed to him like a small miracle. He was about to ask whether they should head back to the house when Sokka sighed. He began to speak.

“I remember when she used to do my hair,” he said softly. “She was always so _careful_. And her hands were so soft.” Zuko could see the glint of his white teeth as he smiled. “Whenever I complained, she would say, ‘This is a warrior’s wolftail,’ and didn’t I want to be a warrior?” 

“Did you?” Zuko asked, smiling, too.

Sokka nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “More than anything.” His legs rose from their dangling position as he pulled his knees into his chest. He tilted his face once more toward the sky, and Zuko saw that his smile had slipped away. When Sokka spoke, he almost sounded nine years old again. 

“I wanted to protect my tribe.”

There was nothing more to say except something that would have been insufficient. So the words hung between them. It was almost as if they had never been spoken, with only the moon as their witness. Zuko himself could barely hear them over the roar of the ocean. But he would remember them, just as Sokka did, even as the waves carried them away. The memory seeped into the boys’ skin in the darkness, through their palms pressed into the wooden planks of the dock. A calm descended upon them as they sat side by side, both willing the moment longer. There seemed a better chance of remembering it, sealing it into their memories that way, as long as the ocean kept churning, and the moon’s light did not subside.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, you can find me on [tumblr](http://koalaotterodae.tumblr.com)!


End file.
